The day before I put my beloved Baja dog down I fell on my ass.
More like a super strong freak gust of wind blew my dirtbike right out from under me on one of the more big jumps on any motocross track I have ever ridden and I fell like two stories past the landing zone and slammed my less fun to look at area to the hard pack.
So the last three and half weeks have been tough on me. Living with out my Baja is like loosing sunshine, comfort, and companionship. I had no idea how massively much those knowing brown eyes of hers meant to me. It has been a tough past few weeks to say the least. The one form of therapy I know to always work is seat time on my good ol dirtbike but even 2 seconds in the saddle is more pain than my stench secreting crevasse can bare so all I have been able to do is work away the hurt and stay off my ass.
Loosing Cowboy and Baja have made me a little more human and little less carefree dare devil. Fuck, I must be getting older. Roll cages, wet wipes, and Metamucil. A pathetic rant on this blog would always incite the Cosmic Cowboy and I could never refuse his wise words of telling me to shut up and go racing. Shit I don't think I have gone this long with out going to a race in a very, very long time...
4 comments:
Hey, we stand up on trials bikes, yeah? I'm proof you can get some helmet therapy at 11 mph.
Very true! I have been working on my creep, roll, wheelie strength training. I think we need to have a back yard trial here at the shop real soon!
Stay positive, you'll be whooped out before you know it. G
People (and I count dogs as people) come and go, but it's how we spent our time with them is what matters in the end.
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